I Won't Make this Easy
by ReadYourHeartOut
Summary: Sable (fem!Pitch) and Jack's relationship is...complicated. But being a Guardian isn't always so fun, and one can only stay alone in the dark for so long. She treats him coldly, and Jack pushes back when pushed. Anticipate vicious arguments followed by even more vicious kisses. Still figuring out where this is going. Rating to change.


"She hasn't said a word since we caught her."

"Gimme a minute with her; I'll make her talk."

"Calm down, Cottontail; with your temper, she'd play you like a fiddle anyway."

"Listen, ya ruddy—"

"_Ahem._ Is now really the time, you two? We have a situation to deal with."

"I say we just let 'er rot in there. That way, she can't do any more damage."

"Did she actually hurt anybody once she got in…?"

"It makes no difference. Until we learn what she is planning, she stays here, and we keep eyes on her."

**...**

To avoid the sunlight shining through the bars of my strangely-comfortable prison cell, I stayed as far as possible into the back corners. The shadows were welcoming, cool and comfortable, and snow occasionally drifted through the open window to light on my skin and clothing. It was quiet for the most part. So that I couldn't sneak away to cause mischief, I was observed by yetis or the Guardians themselves when they were available. They tried a few times to speak to me, but ceased when they realized my lips were sealed. In my silence, I was left quite some time to reflect on my recent actions and the consequences thereof.

It had been months, perhaps only two or three, since I had dared to venture from my lair (I can't be certain; time moves strangely with neither sun nor moon). For some time, I felt there was no point in doing so. I had lost. Once again, I'd been driven back to the shadows, unwanted, unseen. There was little more to it. No, that's wrong. There was much more. The pain—the familiar, almost comforting pain of returning to the shadows after the foolish hope had been torn from my veins—was worse still when I thought of _him_. Yes, although the past few centuries of needlessness were a blur in my mind, the memory of his voice, his rejection was as clear and sharp as an icicle through my chest.

"That's _not_ what I want." Even when we were entirely alone, away from their judgment and with all my encouragement, my desire, my desperation, he would rather die than be mine. Could he see that this was all I wanted? Acknowledgment. A reprieve from my solitude. That he was the only possible glimmer in my expanses of dark silence.

No, I'm certain he didn't. I would never have allowed him that much insight. That would have been dangerous. I couldn't say what he stirred in me, the sort of warmth I thought I could no longer feel. Odd that it should come from him. But in him, I saw myself. If anyone could understand what it was to be shattered and swept into a corner, he could. And by putting all of our broken pieces together, I dared to hope we would be whole again. Which made his dismissal all the more painful. Run through with pain, I reacted to his rejection with violence, only adding to his vendetta against me. As always, I was digging my own grave, deeper and deeper still.

"Oi." My internal reflection was interrupted by the oversized rodent's voice. He sat outside of my cell, painting eggs, eyes firmly fixed on me. When I glanced up, he narrowed his eyes and went on, "What're you playing at? If you think this buttoned up act is gonna psych us out, you're gonna be disappointed." I blinked at him slowly and turned away, letting my eyes fall closed again. "Tsk."

My capture had, of course, been entirely intentional. The only thought that had spurred me to come back up from hiding was the idea that, after some time in his new job, discovering that they were so rarely all together, Jack's mind might have changed. If my conclusion was right, he would be dying for more consistent company, someone whose attention he could completely monopolize. When I resurfaced, it was with a goal of finding him and making him understand that I was his best—perhaps his only—option.

The simplest way to do that was to go through the other Guardians, to whom he was no doubt clinging as often as possible, lonely thing that he was. Now that I was among them, even imprisoned, I had only to wait until I could get him alone. I would stay focused on only him, and the others would not have so much as a word from me.

"Still nothing, huh?" It was his voice this time, drawing me immediately back to reality and my darkened cell; night must have fallen while I was lost in my own thoughts. My eyes darted toward the sound to find him peering at me through the red and white striped bars of my cell. His face reflected distrust, curiosity, but no hatred. That was encouraging. A slight smile curled my lips, and his eyes narrowed.

"Not a bloody word. Dunno what she's thinkin'; maybe she's just lost it and she's givin' herself up." His tone showed that he didn't consider this a genuine possibility.

"Hm. Wouldn't that be a lucky break for us," Jack muttered, not taking his _lovely_ eyes off of me. Just the way I wanted. After a moment, he took a step back to speak quietly to the rabbit. He paused and looked up from his painting to answer in hissing whispers. I raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but just as I trained my ears to their whispers, the conversation was over. The rabbit stood and, with a last venomous glance in my direction, left the room. Jack watched him go, then dragged his icy eyes back to me.

"What do you want?" he asked coolly. He seemed to have no doubt that I would answer him.

"Me? You're the one who wanted us to be alone," I pointed out, turning to sit properly on the bed I'd been given and crossing one leg over the other. The way my robe split up the middle, it fell away to reveal the shape of my thinly-clad calves, but his eyes didn't wander from mine.

"Because I know I'm the reason you're here," he said, leaning his staff against his shoulder and taking a step closer. His other hand was in his jacket pocket as he went on, "So what do you want? The sooner you tell me, the sooner you can leave."

"Do you want me to leave?" I asked, tilting my head back. "Why? Do I present a temptation that makes you nervous?" He rolled his eyes. Brat.

"As if. You're making _everyone_ nervous just by being here." Ah, and there it was: I needn't even take any malicious action to be hated and feared, simply for what I am. "If I can get rid of you by talking to you for a minute, I'll deal with that."

"How terribly gracious of you," I tried to keep the growl from my voice, reminding myself of why I had come. Inhaling deeply, I folded my hands on my knees. "Tell me about your job, Jack. Do you enjoy being a Guardian?" His disdain faded to shock for a split-second before returning in full force.

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked defensively, so precious in the way he never backed down from my challenges. "What do you even care?"

"Mm, I'm afraid that doesn't answer my question," I said as I stood and made my way toward him. "Has it not been all that you expected? All _fun_ and laughter? No more loneliness? No more doubt?" In his eyes, a blizzard was brewing, but I paid the warning no heed.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I think you know very well what I'm saying. I'd wager you've been thinking about it yourself, judging by how much the subject seems to bother you." I reached the door of my cell and leaned against it, sliding my hands up the bars to hold onto them. Casual, confident that I was in control of the situation, I continued, "It's quite a lot of work, isn't it? Enough to keep you busy constantly, trying to build a name for yourself, trying to live up to their expectations. That likely doesn't leave much of the personal time you've gotten so used to having, hm?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said firmly, trying to hide behind an icy mask of indifference. But I could feel the fear in the back of his mind. And ice is easily shattered.

"I do, and so do you. I can understand the pressure that comes with the title. The desire to do good." He scoffed weakly at that, but I went on, "And the feeling that even when you're surrounded by people, people who think they understand, you're still utterly and inescapably alone." His body language reflected what his words would not: his shoulders dropped a bit, and his grip on his staff tightened. Having lost some of his steam, he was now refusing to meet my eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" he muttered. "What do you want from me?"

"You misunderstand me, Jack; I'm here to offer _you_ something."

"Again? I already told you, I don't want to be part of your plans."

"Allow me to rephrase: this offer isn't a partnership. It's simply my presence and my ear whenever you need them." _My hands, my lips, any part of me you like._ "I have no intention of keeping you from your duties or from seeing the other Guardians. But when they're too _busy_ for you, when you tire of sledding and snowball fights, when you want the company of someone who truly sees you…I offer myself as an option." His frown deepened, but it was clear that he was considering my words, just as he had before. I could only hope the outcome would be different this time.

In the room's dim lighting, his skin all but glowed, purely white and perfectly smooth. Would he be soft, I wondered? Would he be warm? Or would he be cold and firm, like ice, like death. I'd never had the opportunity to embrace him, yet when he looked so troubled, I wanted to do nothing more. He was so close…. I dared to reach out and brush his cheek, but the moment my fingers touched his frigid skin—so he _was_ cold—he flinched away from my touch and aimed the end of his staff at me guardedly.

"Don't touch me," he snapped. "I don't know what kind of sick game you're trying to play here, but I'm not gonna let you mess with my head."

"The entire world can't be reduced to one 'game' or another, little boy," I said, storming back into the shadows, frustrated with having been rejected again. "How very like you to run away from something because it isn't 'fun.'"

"I've _never_ run away from you," he said, returning my gaze with equal intensity.

"And I want you all the more for it," I hissed.

"Stop! I don't even know what you're saying—you want me? What, as a pet? That's not going to happen."

"Oh, I feel it's only a matter of time. We both know you're terrified that someday you might not be enough for _them_ anymore, and you know that _I_ ask for nothing more than your presence. You're afraid you might be broken or twisted from years of isolation, but you know that _I_ would have you regardless."

"What if _I_ don't want _you_? I don't know what makes you think you know me so well when I take every chance I can to get away from you!" He was the one at the door now, up against the bars to be as close to in-my-face as possible.

"Then why don't you 'get away' now?" I demanded, stepping in closer to glare down at him. My hand caught the front of his jacket to forcefully drag him closer, so close that he had no choice but to hear my every word. "You're a _child_ who doesn't even know his own heart. Small wonder they never trusted you." Incensed, he tore away from me and flash-froze the bars of the door, shattering the brittle steel. In an instant, he was gripping my robe, forcing my back against the wall.

"You don't know anything about _me_ or _them_ or any of this, because you were _never_ good enough. You never got this chance because they _knew_ there was no good anywhere in you. We're _not _the same," he snarled, and that snowstorm in his eyes raged fiercely.

"Think that all you like, you ignorant brat." Not content for the moment to be manhandled, I took hold of his wrist and pried his grip away. If he wanted violence, I had it in that arm behind his back, I pushed him face-first against the same wall. He tried to swing at me with his staff, but I pinned that arm as well, using the pressure of my body to hold him still. Perhaps the difference in our heights was only an inch or two, but it was enough that I could keep him completely immobile. My chest pressed into his back so he stiffened and let out a gasp as I spoke into his ear. "But why do you feel you have to defend yourself so viciously? Is it because you know I can see straight through you? Because everything you're feeling now, I've felt at one time or another? You've spent so long alone that the thought of someone who sees you for what you are is _terrifying_. Isn't it?" My accusations only came from my own feelings….

"Shut up," he growled. "Get off me!" He thrashed and shoved back against me, getting his arm free and hooking his staff around my ankle. He pulled, and as I fell, I grabbed his jacket to drag him down with me. As my back and head collided with the stone floor, my spine arched, and a groan of pain escaped my mouth.

Blinking my blurred vision clear, I saw Jack kneeling over me on his hands and knees, trying to catch his breath and wearing an expression of something like confusion. With him panting that way, his breath ghosted across my neck, and heat crept into my chest. He seemed torn, frozen as I pushed myself up toward him. I stopped with my lips just a breath away from his, encouraging him to close the gap. The storm in his eyes had died down, leaving them cloudy, and I saw his throat constrict as he reflexively swallowed. Hesitantly, he began to move closer—but halted at the sound of the door opening. Both of us snapped toward that sound to see my golden-haired counterpart gazing at us with wide eyes, half-formed question marks floating around her head.

Just briefly, my hand brushed against Jack's chest, and then I disappeared through the shadows and out the window into the night, proving that they'd never had me captive to begin with. My Night Mares had been waiting outside, and we raced back to our "home," enjoying the cold wind's bite. I'd gotten what I'd wanted; now it was only a matter of time.


End file.
